He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (13 page)

BOOK: He's No Prince Charming (Ever After)
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Dear God, she’d
run
away.

He was a presence only to be tolerated. It would be war again once they retrieved Ginny and he forced them back on the path to Gretna Green, Scotland. And the marriage had to occur. Caro’s well-being was at stake. He needed to accept himself for what he truly was: a beast, a fortune hunter, a blackmailer, and a kidnapper. He had a mission to accomplish and he could not allow Danni’s attacks on his conscience to distract him.

As much as he wanted Danni, she didn’t have the fortune he needed, and she was meant for another—a man who was whole and who could give her the love and marriage she wanted above all. She
deserved
to have both. He could offer her neither. He was far too broken. He gulped, clenching his fists. He was far too like the abomination that sired him to make her, or anyone for that matter, happy.

Cursing his life for the millionth time, he followed her into the building.

“Your outward form is scarcely seen
“Since I arriv’d, so kind you’ve been.”

—“Beauty and the Beast” by Charles Lamb

T
he moment Marcus stepped into the inn, the mass of humanity overwhelmed him. The odor of unwashed bodies, old liquor, and stale air assaulted him, sending him reeling. He staggered back to the wall as he tried to catch his breath, hoping for a glimpse of Danni through the crowd.

As people pressed closer, a cold sweat broke over him. His breath shuddered and his chest pounded as his hands dug into the wooden wall behind him. The solid feel of the building grounded him in the present but he knew, deep down, it was a losing battle. He did not like crowds. He needed to be in a quiet, controlled environment, where unexpected noises didn’t bring back memories of a violent father, and horrified stares didn’t haunt him. There were too many people here, far too many possibilities he could react badly, and far too few escape routes.

Eyes stared openly at him, fixated on his scars. He gulped air, feeling as if everything was closing in on him. He never had this problem in the open. Here, he couldn’t move with the mass of people bumping elbow to elbow.

Fighting for control, he grabbed an abandoned mug of ale. He lifted the metal cup to his mouth with a shaky hand. The acidic tang of the liquor’s aroma filled his lungs, turning his stomach. He recoiled. Although his mouth watered to taste the sweetness of the beer, he felt sick at the thought of swallowing it. He had craved the relief of liquor for two days now. It allowed him to push down recollections best not relived. He needed to numb the pain, but now, not being able to drink it…his chest constricted.

He tossed the mug on a nearby table, not caring where it landed. Despite the turmoil, he had been better in the forest. He’d suffered from only that one incident in Danni’s presence and she’d dismissed it as a common ailment. But this crowd undid him. Groaning, he turned his back and pressed his forehead into the hard wood of the wall.

He must leave at once. But the thought of Danni alone in the tavern full of unruly, drunken men kept his feet firmly in place. The moment he saw to her safety, he’d find a way to escape and let the insanity of his wretched past consume him.

Gritting his teeth, Marcus pushed off the wall and scanned the room again. An Amazon of a woman with black silver-streaked hair caught his eye. She had an air of authority about her. The men listened when she spoke. Was she the innkeeper’s wife or the actual innkeeper? Either way, she could get him a room and locate Danni. He took several shaky steps before being forced to steady himself on a nearby table as a fresh wave of pain laced his skull.

Danni suddenly appeared by his side, shifting slightly behind him as if to hide.

“What’s amiss?” he muttered.

“I feel silly…but I am not properly dressed.”

Marcus’s grip tightened on the table, not sure what her problem was. She’d replaced her trousers and shirt with a dress back at the road.

He needed but a few minutes for this conversation and then he could leave. Just a few more minutes.

“And…”

“This dress is filthy and thin.” Marcus glanced down to see that the skirt was soiled six inches deep in mud and, without the usual petticoats beneath, it hid very little of her figure. “Here…we’re back in civilization, albeit a rough one. I feel exposed and…wrong,” she finished, crossing her arms protectively about her.

The edges of his vision dulled, but finally Marcus understood her concern. He looked past her, where men leered with lustful smirks. He snarled, his protective instinct surging. He forced himself to stand tall, eyeing them with lethal intent. His fierce visage sent them scrambling, averting their heads, hasty to avoid contact.

Danni glanced back as well, frowning as the men feigned disinterest. Marcus, smugly satisfied he’d marked his territory, wanted to stay near Danni but he knew he was unable. His breathing hitched. “Sorry, little one.”

He shucked his jacket once more, and draped it across her shoulders, blocking her body to mid-thigh from sight. She smiled sheepishly, gratefully slipping her arms through the oversized sleeves.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Thank you. All our provisions, along with a full change of clothes, were stored in the carriage.” She folded her arms to hold the coat close. “I was able to convince that intimidating woman over there that we were separated from our traveling party by bandits and that you are ill.”

He nodded. All he wanted was his room and Danni in a safe place.

“I am also your sister for the evening.”

“My sister?”

She nodded, frowning. “Lady Danielle Bradley, at your service.”

The shadows receded momentarily, replaced by renewed interest. The sound of her name joined with his stirred him, but not in a brotherly manner. Quite the opposite. Instead, with a jolt, he envisioned them married, sharing a bed every night.

Danni caught his arm. He glanced towards her. “Marcus, are you feeling ill again?”

He took a steadying breath. He was exhausted from the fever, but this was another matter entirely. “I need to lie down.”

“Go on up. The innkeeper, Ursula, gave you the first room at the top of the stairs. She said a bath and a tray would be brought to you.”

Relief flooded his face, and bracing himself, he straightened, forcing his limbs to cooperate. Her concerned features tightened. “Do you need my help?”

“No!” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but he was desperate to escape this place. He needed privacy to let down his guard without humiliation. He took another step and realized she wasn’t going to follow. “You plan to remain?”

She nodded. “This is a good opportunity to see if anyone else has been robbed by those men. Someone may know where the thieves camp, or have heard news of Ginny.”

He began to protest, but she continued. “Go on. I’m assured I will be safe. Ursula promised me no one will get any ideas into their sod-filled, sheep-bleatin’ heads.” Her lips twitched. “Her words, not mine.”

Wry humor twisted his face as he hesitated a moment longer. The urge to protect her almost made him brave the gathering storm. Almost. Instead, he whispered, “Come with me a moment.”

He pulled her a few steps down the hall, well concealed from spying eyes, and while Danni looked on in befuddlement, he reached inside his Hessian and withdrew a small bag of coins. At her surprised expression he muttered, “Do you believe I would embark on this trip to Gretna without a purse?”

She greedily grabbed an extra coin from his palm. “Frankly, yes, I did. Ha! I believe there is hope for you yet, sir.” Her grin broadened. “I will treat myself to pie with my plate, thank you.”

A drunken sot turned into the hallway, lurching from wall to wall. Danni skipped off into the tavern, secreting the coins into the folds of his massive jacket. The drunk stumbled into him, took one look at his face, and rushed off, muttering curses under his breath. Blood pounded in Marcus’s ears and his lungs tightened. He sprinted to the stairs. Once behind his locked door, he slumped against it. Both relief and fear swamped his body. Blackness swept through him. His last thought: he was glad Danni would not see his seizure.

*  *  *

Danni glanced back after Marcus’s rapidly retreating form. When she’d first approached him, she hadn’t noticed anything wrong. She’d been preoccupied by the salacious looks following her progress through the room. Then she’d noticed the sweat beading on his brow and his pale face. His eyes dark and wide. His caged behavior deeply troubled her.

Her booted foot tapped out her thoughts. Danni wondered exactly what he was trying to hide. He would not welcome her intrusion. He was a private man. Heaven forbid he would tell her why he needed Ginny’s dowry so badly, let alone the cause of his skittishness.

Shaking her head, Danni focused on the task at hand. They needed information on this Green Bandit, and she was the only one available to find it. Thin dress or no, a room full of liquor-loosened tongues was not an opportunity to be wasted. She may even discover the status of any potential pursuit by the admiral. After ordering a plate of food to be delivered to her room, she seated herself at the nearest table, right next to a slight man deep in his cups.

He grinned, his eyes skimming over her. “’Ow pretty you be lookin’, lass.”

An uncomfortable laugh escaped. “Why…er, thank you, sir.” At his continued speculative gaze, she put a note of firmness in her voice. “I hoped you’d like to talk.”

His head tilted, contemplating something before he sighed. “Angus Butcher. I make me home in the village a stone’s throw up the road.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Lady Danielle Bradley.”

He smiled, showing a mouthful of teeth rare in a laborer. “You be passin’ through, ma’am?”

“Yes, my brother and I have become separated from our companions.”

Angus nodded. “Hope you be stayin’ for the festival in the village. Tomorrow we be celebrating our village’s foundin’. Our lordy gives us a ’alf day off.”

Danni fought a smile upon hearing his sarcasm. Several men at the table adopted similar attitudes. The popular opinion seemed that of tolerance, but not fondness. It was more than she could say for many of the men she knew of that currently held titles.

Angus lifted his mug and peeked inside. By the muttered “damn,” she presumed it was empty. Waving for a maid, she ordered another mug of ale for everyone at the table. Angus eyed her with mock suspicion. “You ain’t be trying to soften me up?”

Her head shook vigorously, burying her discomfort.
For Ginny
. “Never! I am simply buying my new friends a drink.”

Grunting, he tossed back the contents of his new mug the moment the maid arrived, gulping deeply.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair and attempting to keep anxiety from her voice, she asked, “I don’t suppose you know if any of our friends came this way? Two men and a pretty redheaded woman?”

He blinked, clearly waiting for her to continue. “Two lads and a young, redheaded gel? No, no one matchin’ that description been seen ’ere. I would ’ave heard ’bout it.”

She was disappointed. With the mention of a festival so close by, she’d been sure they would be in the area. What self-respecting highwayman would miss the occasion to rob so many travelers?

Another man sat down next to Angus, drawing his attention away. Danni sat quietly, debating her next move, when their conversation caught her ear.

“Did you ’ear the Green Bandit and his crew struck again over in Auburndale?”

“My”—Angus chuckled into his mug—“that be thrice just this week. Bold lads, I say.”

“Must be good pickings. Surely they be at camping near the fairgrounds by now, laying low, celebrating their success.”

Danni’s heart pounded with excitement. She could barely wait to tell Marcus. However, she moved to another table and repeated the process, trying to avoid suspicion. She was careful not to ask too many about her “friends,” mindful of any possible pursuers. If people remembered her, and she was sure they would, she couldn’t have them spouting what they’d discussed. She hoped the ale they were drinking so freely would help to blur their memory to the facts.

She quizzed three more men, trying each time to determine the exact location of the camp without ever truly asking, but each conversation ended with disappointment. People only seemed willing to discuss the festival. She admitted defeat, the lure of the hot bath awaiting her too much to resist. As she passed close to the stairs, a man seated at the bar drew her gaze. There was something very familiar about him. He was slumped in his seat, gulping from a steaming mug. Other emptied ones lined up haphazardly across the table. He ate so ravenously, the meal laid out before him disappeared as she watched. Her stomach clenched, reminding her of the meal that should be waiting in her room by now.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Danni approached the bar. She dared not approach him directly. His familiarity could only spell trouble. Instead, she caught the innkeeper’s eye. The Amazon followed her progress to the end of the bar. Leaning over the scarred, stained countertop, she nodded to the man. “Will you tell me about him?”

Ursula eyed her speculatively, her lips tight. Understanding, Danni surveyed the barroom as if nothing was happening. She knew how to bribe; she’d done it several times before.

“Perhaps an extra few pounds appear on our final account in the morning. What say you about the man then?”

Onyx eyes narrowed. “Make it five and I’ll tell you why he’s here.”

Danni smiled. She didn’t really care how much it took, as long as Marcus had enough funds. It wasn’t her money. “Done.”

Absently cleaning a mug with a new rag, the dark-haired woman whispered, “’E’s a scout sent by the Admiralty. Apparently, the man be searchin’ for three persons—a man and two women, one with dark red hair. ’E won’t say who they be, or why they are bein’ searched for. One can only assume they be fugitives.” Ursula paused, her eyes glancing back to Danni in open curiosity. “Almost thought it were you and yer brother, but I ain’t seein’ a red’ead.”

It took everything in her power to mask her shock. The innkeeper examined her reaction far too closely for comfort. Seeking to avert suspicion, Danni smiled with what she hoped was innocence. “No, no other woman with us. Just my brother and me. The Admiralty, you say? Interesting. I remember now that he was the horseman who passed us on the road. Nearly ran me down. Almost killed me, but spent not a moment to see if I was injured.”

She forced a smile, quelling her inner panic.
It couldn’t be… the admiral would have needed time to get this far! And how would he know about Marcus and me?

Ursula hurrumphed, returning to her cleaning.

“I’ll be in my room. Thank you for everything, Miss Ursula.”

Another grunt followed in her wake. The moment she was out of sight on the stairs, Danni bolted, taking them two at a time, intent on warning Marcus of impending danger. She ran down the small section of hall, halting at the plain wooden door. The first one at the top of the stairs.

BOOK: He's No Prince Charming (Ever After)
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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